


how hard will i fall if i live a double life ?

by WhatTheHeckIsGoingOn



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Angst, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Deception, Double Life, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Lies, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Murder, Police Officer Logic | Logan Sanders, Professor Patton Sanders, Professor Virgil Sanders, Unsympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, serial killer Patton, though that's a bit obvious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29720289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheHeckIsGoingOn/pseuds/WhatTheHeckIsGoingOn
Summary: His focus fell on the shirt from last night, half-heartedly tossed to the floor, and he sighed. As he was brushing his teeth, he gently soaked it in cold water and prayed that it wasn't ruined.He wasn't exactly the type to go on blind dates, and he certainly didn't like it when they were, well, like Paul. So he had tried to stay polite, had endured a terrible dinner, hadn't even protested as he was slowly dragged into an alley next to the restaurant, the other man making his intentions incredibly clear.He briefly wondered if the police had found Paul's body yet.---All Logan wanted was to finally sit down in his car and buy a coffee before he had to look at yet another dead person somehow being ripped out of life. Not to mention that he had a distinctive feeling that the body was put there by exactly the person he was dreading. The Lover.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, eventual Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders - Relationship
Kudos: 13





	how hard will i fall if i live a double life ?

Patton woke up to the sound of his alarm blaring in the crook of his arm. Somehow, he had managed to silence all the previous alarms and taken the phone into bed with him; leaving him to now stare at the screen reading 07:40. His first class was starting in about half an hour.

For a brief second, he considered calling in sick but quickly threw that idea out the window. His students were going to take their exams soon and he couldn't bare it on his conscience to cause them more stress by delaying classes.

Hastily, he clambered out of bed, plugging his phone into the charger before going to his closet. With dismay, he looked at the shirts and finally decided on a light blue dress shirt. It wasn't properly ironed but it would have to do. He couldn't have been bothered with that last night.

Until previously, his go- to teaching attire had always consisted of jumpers and jeans, which had always brought him friendly interactions with his students; but his new university required all members of staff to follow a certain dress code. A bit unwillingly, and already mourning his sweater collection, he had agreed with a smile.

His focus fell on the shirt from last night, half-heartedly tossed to the floor, and he sighed. As he was brushing his teeth, he gently soaked it in cold water and prayed that it wasn't ruined.

He wasn't exactly the type to go on blind dates, and he certainly didn't like it when they were, well, like Paul. So he had tried to stay polite, had endured a terrible dinner, hadn't even protested as he was slowly dragged into an alley next to the restaurant, the other man making his intentions incredibly clear.

He briefly wondered if the police had found Paul's body yet.

With one final sigh, he looked himself up and down in the mirror. A pair of tired blue eyes stared back at him, betraying his youthful demeanour. He usually hid it well, the way his body was slowly rotting away along with his soul. Though his hair wasn't going grey yet, some days he expected them to just become so, after all the horrors he had seen and all the things that he'd done. His lifestyle wasn't anything that could be upheld, god knows why he was even able to keep going for so long. Maybe one day, his hair turning grey from his atrocities would give him away.

He spat out his toothpaste and quickly rushed through his bedroom to grab his books and bag; and then he was out the door.

* * *

Logan was definitely not having a great day.

A robbery last night had brought nothing but paperwork and on top of that they had a body. So not only had he been woken up to his phone ringing but also to his partner, Janus, already standing at his door. On the way to the department, he had briefed him about both cases, in-between muttering something about his girlfriend and an argument. He had listened in the way one does when they knew they should be, which was to say he pretended to be responsive.

He didn't know whether the two cases were connected, and quite frankly, he couldn't bring himself to care. But his boss wanted him to know, which was the very reason he was currently being yelled at.

"Madam," he interrupted her as calmly as possible, "I cannot be expected to properly do my work if I am being withheld from going to the crime scene."

He briefly wondered why he had tossed teaching aside for this.

All he wanted was to finally sit down in his car and buy a coffee before he had to look at yet another dead person somehow being ripped out of life. Not to mention that he had a distinctive feeling that the body was put there by exactly the person he was dreading.

The past few months, what was speculated to be a serial killer had started leaving out bodies for them to find.

Nothing too horrifying, mostly no signs of a strong struggle, no distinctive target group. What weirded all of them out the most was that there was no continuous method in the victims. Truly the only reason they believed in one perpetrator was that the bodies turned up in groups of three.

And of course the media was eating it up, a mistake Logan had to admit was entirely his. Had he not uttered the possibility of it not being multiple murderers that couldn't be caught, then maybe the police department wouldn't be in focus of the press.

Since then, it was as though the killer was mocking them. Making the front pages of almost every news outlet every few months, he probably found it amusing to have been discovered; the only reason for upkeeping his pattern to let them know that it was him. The _Lover._ They were no closer to solving the case than Logan was to be royalty.

His boss regarded him with a blank expression before shaking her head in dismay. She had probably pondered firing him twice during the past twenty minutes, he mused.

"Just go and do your job, Sanders. And don't talk to the press under _any_ circumstances. Is that clear?"

"I can't promise anything," he said with a sigh.

Much in fashion of his luck, the time that passed between the department and the crime scene was shorter than he had hoped for. His coffee had cooled down by now, but he still took it out of the car with him just to have something to do with his hands.

"Logan!" Anja greeted him, giving him a brief nod. "You look rough, and I spent last night with a drunkard. Janus says it's our lucky charm, same methods as the last two," she started talking before he even had the chance to greet her back. She had this ability to switch topics in between sentences, without trying to change her tone of voice. When he had first met her, he had hoped to never work with her.

Leading him beyond the crime scene tape, into an alley next to a restaurant he faintly remembered was called Rico's, she continued. "He made it quick, that much is for sure. No signs of struggle- buuuut-"

"Did he know him?"

She pouted at his interruption, giving him the look that told him he was spoiling her fun, but continued nonetheless: "Buuuut, it was messy. And I mean it, there's absolutely no way the _Lover_ made his way away from the scene without being covered in blood. Have you heard of Janus' girlfriend? Sarah at the station told me he slept there, that's how bad it got. And get _this_ -" by now they were standing near the body of a tall and muscular man, an expression of surprise painted on his face- "Janus is speaking with the staff of Rico's. Apparently this guy was having a date and left with another man."

It took him a few seconds to process her input. "So a suspect?"

Anja shook her head, "Or just a witness." Then she perked up again, smiling brightly and lowering her voice conspiratorially, "If this lead is what we think it is, we might finally catch him."

Now, Logan was not a very cheerful person. He wasn't pessimistic per se, but he prided himself on his realistic world view and approach to situations. A simple date could both mean the world or just a needle in the hay; and he honestly doubted that the killer would be caught through an easy mistake such as this.

Before he could stop her hopeful inadequacies, Janus appeared next to him, looking grim. Maybe it was still because of his girlfriend. "Patton Heart," he announced as he waved a page from the reservation book of the restaurant at their direction. He started staggering towards Logan's car, ignoring Anja to his best abilities as she tried to ask him about his night.

With an air of indifference, Logan lowered his head as an apology for his partner, before following him. Patton Heart sounded familiar enough, but he couldn't place it. So as he sat down in the passenger seat, the radio playing some awful song about lemons, he simply decided to copy his partner's mood, exhaling audibly. 

* * *

A sense of foreboding spread through Patton as he approached the doors of the university, where Virgil was already waiting for him. On the way there, he had checked the news and found several articles, one in particular striking him due to delicate information: the victim had had a date with another man, currently under police investigation. It had been published just as he got out of the bus.

"There you are," Virgil greeted him uncharacteristically neutral. His usually nervous expression was replaced by something that could only be described as dread, regarding Patton with tired eyes.

Taking another look around to make sure there were no prying students within earshot, he asked: "Paul Whiteman, that's the guy you went on a date with last night, right?"

"Uhm, yes," he studied his friend's face carefully and found no trace of suspicion, only unease. "But we kind of cut it short. Virgil, what's going on? You're scaring me." Deciding that there was no use to run, he had made up a quick story that worked within the margins of his personality. So he was playing dumb.

"They found his body this morning," a voice announced from behind him and he turned around to see Janus and another man coming up to them, both in police uniform.

He mentally cursed. He had estimated that he would have at least another half hour before they would be coming in to question him. Enough time to rehearse his story once more, to figure out eventual loopholes that could make them suspicious. Patton giggled uneasily, "What?"

"We would like to take you to the station with us," Janus informed him, then, in a much softer tone he added: "It's just routine stuff, from what it looks like you're the last person who has seen him alive."

He hadn't known Janus for long, having been introduced to him during a faculty party that Virgil had organised more or less to the university president's knowledge. But he was a kind man, believing in the good in people. So it wasn't that unsurprising to hear him word the situation that way, the way that gave away that he was far too close to the case without knowing.

Patton shifted his glance to the other man. He was approximately the same height as him, though a bit more frail, with a slight tan and a pair of black nerdy glasses. His hair was neatly combed to the side- in general, his entire appearance could only be described as well-groomed; a polar opposite of himself.

But unlike Virgil and Janus, he didn't quite seem to buy into his antics; his sharp gaze fixed on him like a hunter assessing its prey.

"When did they find him?"

The other man turned his eyes away from him to answer Virgil's question: "This morning." He watched his friend deflate at the answer, then take a deep breath. "I'll- Patton, if you want I can lecture for you today. Dostoyevsky, right?"

Thanking the heavens, or whatever deity there was that still believed in him, he gave a tentative smile. "That would be very sweet of you."

* * *

Now, Logan prided himself in reading other people quite well; which was exactly what was confusing him now about the man.

Patton Heart, a thirty- four year old university professor who had graduated on top of his classes with honours, who was doing charity work at the homeless shelter, should not be a person that made the alarm bells in his brain go off. His personality and demeanour were not in any way contradictory to the description Virgil had ever given him about the man, or how high Janus had spoken of him before their encounter at the university.

And yet there _was something_ that ticked him off.

They hadn't spoken on their way to the station, the car silent except for the clicking indicating a turn and the police radio static that sometimes buzzed up. From his front seat, Logan had watched Heart through the rear view.

He wasn't unpleasant to look at; they were roughly the same age and height, both with brown hair (though Heart's resembled more of a nest of unkept curls) and their shared need for visual aid. Except that the man wasn't wearing glasses, and in his medical file there was no mention of a prescription for contacts, so Logan wasn't entirely sure how he handled himself. What was probably the most striking thing about his appearance, however, was most likely the way he seemed to hunch in on himself, as to make himself smaller.

_A way to make oneself seem less threatening._

The crumpled shirt and simple backpack made him appear younger, the dark circles under his eyes as if he was another university student himself.

_A way to appear vulnerable._

As they had gotten out of the car, Heart had stumbled slightly, apologising and blushing profusely. And truly, there was really no reason Logan needed to be wary. It was perfectly normal for someone to dress a certain way, or not be all too interested (or able to) take care of trivial matters such as physical appearance. And after all, officially, he had just been informed of his date's untimely passing.

But they all those thing played into a picture, that could be manipulated very easily if one knew how to go about it, his brain supplied him once more.

"So you mastered in classical literature?" he asked as he sat down in front of the brunet in the interrogation room. As he didn't get a reply, he looked up in question.

Heart was sort of staring into space, his hands neatly folded in his lap, and was slightly rocking himself back and forth.

"Mr. Heart?"

That seemed to snap him back to the present and he stared at him for a few seconds. "Oh, I'm sorry." He smiled apologetically. "I just- It's weird, sorry. And you're interrogating me because he's dead and I don't- didn't, I mean- properly know him after all and-" he paused, "Sorry. I tend to blabber when I'm nervous." Then he added: "Sorry."

"Are you nervous a lot?"

Logan didn't miss the slight twitch of the other's eyebrow, as if surprised by the question. And true, Logan himself sometimes didn't know where his line of questioning went as it was happening. It was a simple movement to a strange indication, nothing more. He was already on the brink of telling the paranoid voice in his mind to get lost who-knows-where, but had to keep up his appearance for at least another while to do his job.

"Anxiety disorder, I'm sure it says that on my medical file-" he gestured at the open document on the table between them.

"And that doesn't interfere with your teaching?"

Apparently that was a silly suggestion, as he started chuckling, half-heartedly stifling it by holding his hand in front of his mouth. "I just… I know this sounds silly, Virgil laughed about me when I told him, but I kind of… don't wear my glasses? So I don't see them?" Upon Logan's apparent surprise he rushed: "I know it's not-"

"No, okay," Logan interrupted him. It seemed so incredibly reasonable for someone who once wore his pyjamas to work. It was a story Virgil brought up when trying to suggest that his job might not be healthy for him.

"So last night you went on a date with Paul Whiteman, at Rico's, you had a reservation at 9pm." He looked up from the notepad that Janus had written down the chronological events of the evening on, waiting for the other to interrupt. As that didn't happen, he continued: "Several witnesses claim you were visibly uncomfortable, one reports talking to you near the restrooms. Care to elaborate what you talked about?"

"Uhm," the man scrunched his eyebrows in contemplation, "I think she asked me about my date? I'm not entirely- I drank a lot, to be honest."

"And what did you say to her?"

"I told her it was going terribly," Heart stated. "Paul was pushy and I initially didn't want to go with him but Virgil had- that's my colleague- convinced me to and-" he shrugged. "I was trying to cut it short, so I said I was feeling sick and wanted to go home."

"Did you leave with Mr. Whiteman?" Now, truth be told, they didn't know. According to Janus' notes, even though they had left the restaurant together at around ten, nobody had seen either of them leaving in a car or somehow else. There were no security cameras outside Rico's and no passer-byers had been found.

He nodded. "Paul offered to give me a ride- with me being drunk and, you know, but I said no. I didn't- do you know when someone looks at you and you feel just…wrong?" Heart looked at him for a second, before shaking his head and looking back at the table. "I just wanted to go home. So I told him I would call him as soon as I got there but-"

"There were no phone records indicating-"

"I had deleted his number on the way home," he explained miserably. "I didn't think he would- oh, gosh." The man sniffled, blinking away tears. "Do you think if I took up his offer he would still be…"

Wordlessly, Logan passed him a tissue. "Do you know if Mr. Whiteman had anyone that would want to do him harm? An ex, maybe some colleague?"

"I don't know."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Heart calming himself down and only sniffling then and again. From what it looked like, they were no closer to solving the Lover's case. Maybe Paul had been picked by chance, and Heart could have just been another potential victim, or maybe there had been some other form of connection between the murderer and the victim. But nevertheless, the only thing they had was a clueless university professor, who seemed pretty shaken up by the entire ordeal.

They were back to square one, and it would take approximately another month or two before the Lover would strike again. Or maybe they had missed their chance, and he had already skipped town.

"Is that all?"

Logan snapped back to the man, then quickly skimmed his file to maybe find something else to ask. "I believe so," he sighed. "Please stay available for further questioning. Or if you remember anything else, give us a call, or tell Janus." He got up and gestured toward the door. "Do you need a ride back to Jamesbrough?"

Heart hesitated, then shook his head, "I'll be fine. It was-uhm, nice meeting you…?"

Oh. Entirely lost in thought and hooked on the chance of another lead in the case, he had completely forgotten to introduce himself. He forced a smile: "Logan Sanders."

**Author's Note:**

> i have a slight idea where i'm going with this, and it's not going to be pretty. if you liked it so far, if you have suggestions, or want to tell me how to improve my sentences, comments and kudos are appreciated :)


End file.
